


How Jyn And Peggy Spend An Afternoon

by randomdreamer01



Series: The Germans Wore Grey, You Wore Blue [6]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America - All Media Types, Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - World War II, Am I just writing niche crossover stories now?, Awesome Peggy Carter, Crossover, F/M, Female Friendship, Gen, Romance, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-03 06:36:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10961724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomdreamer01/pseuds/randomdreamer01
Summary: “Do not worry, Miss Erso,” says Agent Carter. “I am not here to send you packing. I am here at the request of one of your instructors.”Jyn’s gaze quickly travels to the officers’ table. It is not hard to miss who she is looking for. Captain Cassian Andor, with his height and darker complexion, immediately draws her eye. He is not looking her way, of course, but is drinking tea while looking mildly interested in his plate of rationed food. The smug bastard....Scotland, 1943.The SOE need a few good women in the field if they want any chance at winning the war. This is how Jyn Erso becomes acquainted with one Agent Peggy Carter.(Because when you write Jyn and Cassian in a WWII AU, you need to add dear ol' Peg into the mix.)





	1. Peggy and Jyn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you know that horrible writer’s rut you have every once in a while? When everything you write feels repetitive and dull? When it takes you ages just to finish a single paragraph? This story, unfortunately, was written during one of these ruts, which I’m still having right now. Although I tried to squeeze accurate history into this story as much as I could, at the end of the day, this is pure crossover AU madness. So, naturally, nothing makes sense. Please forgive me! [You can also check out the series’ official playlist here. I'll be updating it as I go along.](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL6q0-u-EGyHV_gc5rxOwwUA5NFzQKEHUQ)
> 
> A tiny warning: Peggy and Jyn do some shooting at the gun range in this. So if you’re uncomfortable with guns, turn back now! 
> 
> Reviews are (almost) better than feeling like a competent writer again. So please be kind, throw me a bone, and leave one if you can.

_Now…go set Europe ablaze!_

**Winston Churchill,** on the creation of the Special Operations Executive (SOE) 

 

_Women, as you must know, have a far greater capacity for cool and lonely courage than men._

**Captain Selwyn Jepson,** recruiter for the SOE

 

* * *

 

**June, 1943**

**Arisag House, Inverness-shire, Scotland - Paramilitary School**

  
****

_A sample of notes from various instructors regarding student Miss Jyn Erso_

 

_Student does not shy away from fieldcraft and is surprisingly comfortable in rugged terrains. Physical training and exercise do not phase her; student is in very good shape. Very adept at map reading, compass work and knows her way around a campsite. Can build a fire, put up a tent quickly, and follow trail marks. She obviously has had experience living outdoors for long stretches of time, although I can’t imagine where. Student might not have the decorum of a lady, but has more pluck than most men I know._

_._

_Student already knows Morse Code and makes no point of hiding the fact in lessons. I almost had an altercation with her when she corrected me in front of the entire class. I challenged her to give a demonstration and she happily obliged. Needless to say, she made me look a fool. I do not think the humiliation was at all necessary._

_._

_Student handles weapons exceedingly well, particularly the Colt. 45. Can also handle the .38 and the Sten gun, but she regards the latter as unreliable. Does well with moving targets and has no qualms about using the Double Tap system, unlike most other recruits. Her knife-skills aren’t as good, but she can hold her own. Today, at the shooting range, I caught her whispering to a fellow student while I was providing instructions for the test. Turned out student was giving her friend help on how best to grip a gun. Impertinent wench._

_._

_Student is deadly at close combat and silent killing. Even Fairbairn and Sykes expressed amazement and gave her a chance at trying out their commando knife. Too bad student can’t fist-fight us through Europe and take us all the way to Berlin. But although effective, her style is somewhat unorthodox. She trusts her intuition more than instructions. When I questioned her about it, she challenged anyone who was present to a fight. Even though no one took her up on her offer, it shows she is prone to recklessness and short bursts of anger. A shame._

_._

_Student is gifted at sabotage and has a good sense of strategy. Very creative with attack plans and nerveless with explosives. She is not conservative in the slightest in her methods, which has led to some missions being jeopardised. Like with her fighting style, she can be rash and emotionally-charged. But student is a natural leader. Other students follow her, and when a mission goes south, she is always the first to take the blame. Still, student tends to keep herself to herself. She is friendly enough, but never confides. She does not always manage male admirers well. She is passionate and ardent about the cause, but prefers not to discuss it in detail. I get the sense that it is rather too personal._

_._

_Student is definitely talented, but unpredictable. Gifted, but also dangerous. Would be a waste if she is not deployed, but I don’t quite know what to make of her contradictions. For the life of me, I cannot decide if she would help or hinder our cause. The girl is a damn conundrum if I ever saw one._

 

* * *

 

The woman finally approaches Jyn at lunch on Thursday afternoon. 

Jyn thinks it is about time. The woman has been skulking around the place for two days now, ever since she showed up at Arisag House sometime in the middle of Monday night. No. Wrong choice of word, actually. The woman does not _skulk._ Rather, she stands and observes, quietly and intently, as though she is doing them a bloody favour and not at all apologetic about her sudden presence. More admiringly, her uniform (no badges) appears impeccably uncreased, and even in the moors of Inverness-shire, she has taken the time to apply lipstick and style her hair. Jyn could only dream of her own hair curling in such a way.

The woman sticks out a hand as Jyn is taking a bite of sausage. 

“Jyn Erso?” 

The name might be phrased as a question, but it is definitely not one. Jyn can only chew on her sausage and swallow it down with difficulty. 

The woman’s hand flinches with impatience. 

“May I take a seat, Miss Erso?” 

“By all means,” Jyn says. Because what else can she say? No? It is pretty obvious that she does not have much choice in the matter; the woman has a determined glint in her eyes which brooks no argument. 

“I’m pleased to finally make your acquaintance, Miss Erso,” says the woman, taking a seat at the empty table. “My name is Agent Carter. I am here from London to evaluate your progress.”

An agent? They hardly get _agents_ at Arisag House, let alone ones from London who has come north specifically to evaluate _Jyn’s_ progress. Jyn frowns, her meal all but forgotten; the fear she has been dwelling on for months is rising to the surface. 

“Forgive my ignorance, ma’am. Evaluate my progress? Does this mean I am being sent to the ‘cooler’?”

The ‘cooler’ is where candidates who are deemed ‘unsuitable’ for the SOE are sent. There is a rumour that it is not a prison, per say, but a place where these ex-candidates are encouraged to forget about what they have learned during the course of their failed training. For Jyn, this sounds like an absolute nightmare. The only thing worse than failing is being made to _forget_ that you have failed. 

“Do not worry, Miss Erso,” says Agent Carter. “I am not here to send you packing. I am here at the request of one of your instructors.”

Jyn’s gaze quickly travels to the officers’ table. It is not hard to miss who she is looking for. Captain Cassian Andor, with his height and darker complexion, immediately draws her eye. He is not looking her way, of course, but is drinking tea while looking mildly interested in his plate of rationed food. The smug bastard. 

“And which instructor would that be?” Jyn asks, failing to keep the bite away from her tone. 

Agent Carter smiles a little mischievously. “Oh, I can’t possibly say.”

“Am I in trouble, ma’am?”

“No, you’re not, Miss Erso.”

“But you have been watching me train.”

“That I have.” Agent Carter offers another friendly smile. “You would have given me a run for my money.” 

Jyn, despite being a little wary, finds herself feeling rather proud. “Are you here to offer me your opinion on my skills, ma’am?”

“Of sorts. Well, I was hoping we could have more of a conversation, Miss Erso. I do love a good conversation.” 

“Over tea, I hope?” 

“Of course. But perhaps somewhere more discreet.”

It turns out ‘somewhere more discreet’ is Cassian Andor’s office. Jyn, who has been there only once (to yell at Cassian about a failed training mission and got yelled back in return), lets Agent Carter lead her there. Obviously, this is not the woman’s first trip to Arisag House. It is beginning to rain outside (it always rains here) when Agent Carter takes Cassian’s seat behind the desk and Jyn pours them both tea.

Agent Carter begins rather bluntly, opening a file that is on Cassian’s desk. 

“Miss Erso, I see you were recruited by Captain Jepson and Captain Andor because of your fluent French and your time with Saw Gerrera in France.”

Jyn flinches; her childhood and adolescence are still topics she would rather not discuss if she could help it. 

“I’m sure those were…important factors in my recruitment, ma’am.”

“Of course, I do not wish to pry into your personal life, Miss Erso,” remarks Agent Carter, not unkindly, “but you must see how it is relevant.” 

Jyn drinks some more tea and lets silence descend. So this is character evaluation. Jyn has expected it, of course. But not from a female agent who has been specifically called up from London. Something is amiss here. But she cannot quite put a finger on it.

Agent Carter flips over to another page in Jyn’s file. 

“Your parents.”

“What about them?” 

“Are you doing this for them, Miss Erso?”

It is a very personal question, and judging from Agent Carter’s pinched expression, she knows it too. Jyn bristles a little, but her answer is firm. 

“I’m doing this because I want _us_ to win the war, ma’am, and not the other lot. You give way to an enemy this evil with this much power and you condemn the entire world to an eternity of submission.” 

The corners of Agent Carter’s mouth twitch. She seems impressed enough with the answer as she flips to another page. And then, after a short, contemplative moment, she says, “If you would indulge me, Miss Erso, I would like to play a game with you.”

“A game?” 

“Yes, I’m not too fond of games myself,” says Agent Carter, smiling kindly, “but this one is simple enough. I give you a word and you tell me the first thing that pops into your mind.” 

Jyn’s brows lifted, the sarcasm hardly masked. “Word association? Really?”

“I know. It is a bit prosaic. But, unfortunately, I do not make the rules.” 

Jyn shrugs. “I don’t have a choice, do I?” 

“I’m afraid not.” 

“Alright then,” says Jyn, sighing. 

There is silence as Agent Carter takes a sip of tea. Then - 

“England.” 

“Country,” Jyn answers immediately. 

“Parachute.”

“Safety.”

“Weapon.” 

Jyn pauses, almost imperceptibly. “Self.” 

“Espionage.”

“Necessary.” 

A brief look of fascination crosses Agent Carter’s features before she continues. “Bird.” 

“Escape.”

“Freedom.”

This one is easy. “Pain.”

“Family.” 

Again. Easy. “Gone.” 

“Gun.”

“Justice.” 

This time, it is Agent Carter who pauses. “Anger?”

“Blood.”

“Love?” 

“Hope.”

“Memory.” 

Jyn’s voice barely shakes. “France.” 

Agent Carter gives her a stern nod. “I see you’re pretty straightforward with your answers, Miss Erso.”

“I didn’t think they _were_ answers, ma’am. Just words.”

“Of course they were answers.” Agent Carter flips to another page. “And it is one of your defining qualities, Miss Erso. Your bluntness. I see it in the way you fight, the way you talk, even in the way you handle weapons. It is a good quality to have and I admire it immensely. Like here.” She lifts the file up slightly, nodding at the open page. “Here’s my favourite note about you. From your parachute training instructor at Ringway. The student, and this is a direct quote, ‘does nothing by half-measures and was visibly eager to jump out of an airplane’.” 

Jyn does not know quite how to respond. Is she supposed to smile along? Say thank you? Fortunately, Agent Carter does not wait for her reaction and ploughs on. 

“You have bravery in spades, Miss Erso. And skills. But your file also says you’re…prone to recklessness?” 

“Sometimes I don’t plan things beforehand,” Jyn admits, rather sheepishly. “I rely on my instincts.”

“You can also be…volatile?” Agent Carter’s eyes continue scanning the page. “Several times, your instructors have described you as ‘angry’? ‘Always furious’? ‘Uncontrollable?’” 

“I am _not_ uncontrollable!”

“There’s an incident which occurred on one of your days-off. You…nearly punched a Private at a local pub?” Jyn feels the heat rush to her face, but Agent Carter continues calmly. “One of your instructors was at the scene so he intervened just in time. He’s the one who recorded the incident in your file. To quote him, he almost had to…” - Agent Carter’s eyes twinkle at Jyn before she reads aloud - “…‘hurl you over his shoulder and physically drag you away from the scene’?” 

“That instructor,” Jyn says through gritted teeth, “is an infuriating, pig-headed arsehole.” 

An arsehole who also didn’t bother to inform her that she would be evaluated by a special agent from London. Jyn thought that she and Cassian Andor were….not friends, exactly. (Can one even be friends with one’s commanding officer-slash-instructor?) But she thought that there had been…an understanding of sorts there. Enough to warrant a warning, at least. 

“Ah. I’ve had experiences with infuriating, pig-headed commanding officers myself,” Agent Carter remarks idly. “But none who looks like _that._ ”

“I’m not sure what you mean, ma’am.” And to stop Agent Carter from pursuing the matter further, she asks, “What about you, ma’am? Do you think I should not progress in my training because I am _always furious_?”

“Oh, absolutely not!” Agent Carter snaps the file shut and tosses it down on the table. She takes a quick sip of tea before continuing. “If it were up to me, you’d already be on your way to Hampshire, to join the Finishing School at Beaulieu.”

“But?”

“But it is not up to me, Miss Erso. I am here merely to add my opinion to the pile. Someone deems it invaluable, funnily enough.” 

“Ma’am?”

“You must know that there has been…concern from a few of your instructors in regards to your reckless nature. They do not think you should move on to the next stage of your training.” Upon recognising the hurt that flashes through Jyn’s expression, Agent Carter quickly says, “Not _all_ of your instructors think this way, of course. But some do.” 

“If I were a man, would my… _recklessness_ be such a concern?”

“Not so much that it would hinder your advancement, no.” Agent Carter sighs. “It’s bloody unfair, of course. But that’s how it is.”

“Have I any hope?” 

“Of course you do. As I’ve said, you’re brave. Smart. Selfless. They’d be bloody lucky to have you.”

“I’m sensing another ‘but’ here, ma’am.” 

“But…with your less than conservative approach to things…I’m not going to recommend you for spy work, Miss Erso.”

Jyn hesitates. “I’m not quite sure what that means, ma’am.”

Agent Carter does not look displeased. Simply amused. “It means your qualities do not lend themselves to spy craft, Miss Erso. You’re not a very good liar, for one, and I know this just from having one conversation with you. I’m afraid you would make a terrible spy. But judging from your expression, I suppose you think this is not necessarily a bad thing?” 

“I’m not particularly fond of spies,” Jyn mutters. 

Agent Carter lets out a chuckle. “Who is? You might not be spy-material, Miss Erso, but your qualities do have their uses. Sabotage? Combat? Recruitment? These things would be right up your alley. And I reckon you already have _some_ experience with these things, considering your particular set of skills.” 

Again, Jyn has no wish to discuss her past in detail; she drinks more tea.

“If you ever reached Beaulieu - and you will if I have anything to do with it - I would recommend that you take lock-picking lessons there,” Agent Carter continues excitedly. “Being a skilled cracksman will give you certain advantages in the field. Perhaps something to do with engines as well? It is always handy to know how to steal a car.” 

“Will I be sent to France if I pass my training?” 

Agent Carter hesitates a little. “That would be the mostly likely destination for you, yes.”

Jyn lets out the breath she did not realise she has been holding. “Thank you, Agent Carter.”

“You’re very welcome, Miss Erso. And it’s Peggy.” 

“Peggy,” says Jyn, smiling. “And please call me Jyn.”

Peggy inclines her head. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Jyn.” 

 

* * *

 

Peggy Carter’s shooting stance is, of course, flawless. 

If a photograph were to be taken of it, it could even be used in their training manual. There is also no mistaking the intention behind the way she grips her weapon: not for self-defence, but solely for attack. She and Jyn are at the shooting range, and they have been here for almost two hours now, ever since their conversation in Cassian’s office had finished. Outside, the rain continues to fall steadily. 

Peggy is lowering her _third_ gun - a Walther PPK/S - when Jyn notices how the middle of the target board is punctured by a litany of bullets. Every shot had been dead to centre. It was impressive the first time two hours ago, but it is even more impressive now. 

“Marvellous, Peggy!” Jyn exclaims with awe.

“Come now, Jyn, I’ve seen you shoot,” Peggy says modestly, emptying the magazine. “You’re a damn good shot yourself.” 

“Yes, but you’re definitely much better than I am. I’m only half-decent with a Walther,” Jyn remarks wistfully. She begins to load the SOE’s standard .Colt 45. “Guns have their uses, but I prefer truncheons, actually. It is a shame we are not being trained and issued with truncheons.” 

“Truncheons? How peculiar!” 

“I’m comfortable with guns, but that’s only because I’ve been around them all my life.” Jyn lifts the Colt and takes aim. “I still prefer hand-to-hand combat.” 

“So I’ve noticed.” 

Jyn pulls the trigger once. Twice. Thrice. The result is nearly as perfect as Peggy’s. But Jyn hardly notices and she sighs when she lowers her weapon. She knows she is not supposed to ask, but she does anyway. 

“Peggy, this has been fun, but…I need to know something.” 

Peggy is in the process of taking a Luger out of her case. She halts and looks over at Jyn, frowning. “Yes?”

“The instructors who do not want me to progress in my training. Is one of them…Cassian Andor?”

This is when Jyn’s opinion of Peggy rises even higher. Instead of looking at her with real smugness, Peggy offers her a small, kind smile instead. 

“Of course not, Jyn. To tell you the truth…it is Cassian Andor who asked me to come and observe your progress. He hopes that I might be able to help you improve or that my recommendation could sway other people’s opinions in your favour. He’s a good man, Cassian Andor, despite his faults. Maybe even a sentimentalist at heart. But unfortunately,” Peggy sighs, not even attempting to shoot the Luger anymore, "when it comes to the _real_ gang of infuriating, pig-headed arseholes who run the show, I don’t know how much help I’d be.”

“I didn’t know Cassian has…friends who are not Instructor James Kay,” Jyn remarks dryly. 

“Oh, we aren’t friends,” Peggy corrects her sharply. “I’m not sure Andor has many friends. In ’40, I was undercover in Germany. So was he. That’s how we met. I found myself in a tight spot and he helped me out. I owe him a favour ever since. Bloody inconvenient, if you ask me.”

“So _this._ Evaluating my progress. This is your favour to him?” 

“Yes, it is.”

Jyn is not sure why, but the information nearly makes her blush scarlet. She wants to pickup the loaded Colt again and fire some more shots to diffuse the tension. But before she can do so, Peggy tells her rather seriously.

“Jyn, listen, you’re going to be marvellous. Believe me. Andor and I are going to do our damnedest to prepare you and get you deployed.” 

“Thank you, Peggy. That means a lot coming from you.” 

“Dream of France, Jyn. They will need you, more than they realise.”

Jyn cracks a tiny smile. “Perhaps we’ll meet on the continent then?”

“Not any time soon, I’m afraid. I’m being sent to America to train a bunch of wimpy boys. The brass wants me to help turn them into…” - Peggy rolls her eyes - “… _men who can escort Adolf Hitler to the gates of hell._ ” 

Jyn’s eyes narrow at her new-found friend. “Come to think of it, you never told me which unit you're with.”

“Just trust me when I say - you wouldn’t believe me if I did.”

 

* * *

 

After she said farewell to Peggy, Jyn decides to seek out Cassian. 

She finds him training a group of new recruits in the moors, with only one other instructor (not James Kay) barking orders not too far from him. The students are crawling through barbed wires, their faces and uniforms smeared with mud and rain. The poor souls. 

Unlike his fellow instructor, Cassian is silent. He stands, arms crossed, his eyes sweeping over the students with a serious expression swirling in them. His mouth is one thin line of determination and disapproval. The sight brings a reluctant smile to Jyn’s lips; she has long ago reconciled herself to the fact that she finds Cassian’s seriousness endearing as well as incredibly irritating. 

But of course, Cassian can be hard to read when he wants to be. Cold, sometimes. Even distant. Every time Jyn thinks she has him figured out, he slips through her fingers again, disappearing into his own world where she cannot quite follow. This business with Peggy Carter is definitely one of these instances. 

“Has anyone thrown up yet?” Jyn says to him in way of greeting. 

Cassian barely glances at her. “Erso.”

“That blonde girl is _barely_ moving, Captain. Are you sure she’s not dead?”

“ _That girl_ was a swimming champion at Oxford, Erso. I assure you - she is alive.” 

Jyn shrugs. “I don’t know, Captain. She’s really trailing behind.”

“Henderson is doing far worse.” 

“Henderson has a sprained ankle.” 

“Henderson is lazy.” 

“No, Henderson simply needs time to adjust to the physical demands. While the blonde one…” - Jyn wrinkles her nose - “…the blonde one needs a personality transplant.” 

Cassian sighs. “You’re supposed to be at the shooting range.”

“I decided to let other people have a go. It is not like I require anymore practice.”

Cassian sighs again. “Do you need something from me, Erso? Or are you just going to stand here and insult my recruits?”

There is a short, quiet moment as she simply studies him. He looks very weary. Almost sleep-deprived. Deep, dark circles are visible beneath his eyes.

“Peggy told me what you did,” Jyn says eventually. “That it was you who asked for her opinion on my progress.”

Cassian winces, but the action is so tiny, Jyn almost misses it.

“My question is…why?” Jyn asks.

“Why?” 

“Why do you need Peggy’s input? Don’t you trust your own judgement?” 

Cassian mutters something in Spanish under his breath - something she does not understand. Eventually, he tells her quietly, “You might have already heard the leaks from somewhere. About how things have been…going wrong for us in France lately. Some of our operatives have been rounded up. Captured, tortured, or worse.”

“I don’t see what this has to - ”

“Jyn, I don’t want that to happen to you.” His shoulders tense and she notices how his jaws are clenching painfully. “We need you - _I_ need you to be ready. Truly ready. And Carter can help. Because if anything were to happen to you…I wouldn’t be able to…”

“Cassian, I don’t understand - ”

He rushes on like he cannot stop himself. “I needed a second opinion from someone I can trust, because when it comes to you, I find I might be biased.”

_Biased?_

_Does he mean what I think he means?_

Bloody hell, maybe she _should_ return to the shooting range. This warm, awkward feeling that’s dancing in her stomach…well, it might disappear entirely after she has fired a few rounds with the Luger Peggy had left for her. (At least, for all their sakes, she hopes it will.)

The silence between them is as thick as the noise of the rain, beating down on the heavy, wet earth. When Jyn speaks again, her voice sounds incredibly pathetic to her own ears. 

“I thought - I thought you hated me.”

“I don’t hate you.” Cassian’s eyes flicker to hers for one brief moment before he looks away again. Then, in a much lower tone: “I believe in you. Some would say far too much.”

Oh. 

The rain continues to fall. It is plastering his fringe to his forehead. He blinks, chasing the droplets away from his dark, calculating eyes. And Jyn wants nothing more than to reach out and touch him. Just a touch. Even a light one on his arm or on his shoulder. Just to let him know how much his words mean to her. How much they have changed everything.

“Thank you,” Jyn ends up saying instead. 

“You’re very welcome.” Cassian turns his body toward hers for just a tiny fraction. “And you’re right. The blonde does need a personality transplant.”

“Of course she does.” 

“And I’ll try and give Henderson another chance.” 

“Good. She won’t let you down.” 

“I’ll hold you to that.”

A beat. Then, rather quietly, Jyn says, “I’ll try not to let you down either.”

Cassian’s lips curve into something close to a smile. “Oh, I don’t think that’s possible.” 

Yes. Very biased indeed. 

 

* * *

 

_Dear Peg -(STOP)- Made progress -(STOP)-Enjoying the Luger -(STOP)- Hope America is treating you well -(STOP)- Thank you for everything -(STOP)- J._

 

_._

_._

_._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although the sexist vibes from the SOE notes are not entirely inaccurate, I took major liberties with how they grant advancement to students. The word association game, for example, was inspired by a scene from _Skyfall_ ( ~~because I am desperate~~ ) and not from a real SOE procedure. Now, onto the _real_ history: 
> 
> \- The **Special Operations Executive** (SOE) was officially formed on 22 July 1940 to conduct espionage, sabotage and reconnaissance against the Axis Powers. The F Section, which operated in France, had a recruiter named Captain Selwyn Jepson. In preparation for D-Day, F-Section dropped many operatives into occupied France, many of whom were women recruited by Jepson. 
> 
> \- Training for an SOE operative consisted of four stages:
> 
> (1) Basic assessment of the candidate’s character and potential.  
> (2) Paramilitary school based mainly in Scotland, such as in Arisag House in Inverness-shire. This is where Jyn is. There, students underwent physical training, combat, demolitions, signalling, weapons handling etc.  
> (3) Parachute training at an RAF base in Ringway, Manchester.  
> (4) Beaulieu Finishing School - Students were taught how to maintain their cover, how to communicate in the field, and how to act under surveillance/arrest. There were also specialist schools that taught lock-picking, burglary, engines demolition etc.
> 
> \- Cassian’s mention of things ‘going wrong’ in France refers to a network of SOE spies called “Prosper” that was heavily compromised. The SOE was unaware at first and kept sending operatives to the network after it had been controlled by the Nazis. Many operatives belonging to the Prosper network were tortured or executed.
> 
> \- Fairbairn and Sykes are William Fairbairn and Eric Anthony Sykes, two ex-Shanghai municipal police officers who taught hand-to-hand combat and silent killing at Arisag House. They later moved to Camp X, a spy school in Ontario, Canada. Their knife was a double-edged fighting knife issued to many British commandos and to some units that landed in Normandy. 
> 
> \- Students at paramilitary school were trained with the Colt .45, the Colt .38, and the Sten gun. The Double Tap system, specific to the SOE, required operatives to always fire two shots to be certain of hitting their target. The Luger is, of course, a German pistol. 
> 
> \- Extensive research (I’m being sarcastic here) of the MCU Wiki showed me that Peggy started her work with Operation Rebirth in June 1943. The undercover mission I had her mention is when she infiltrated a German castle and freed Dr. Erskine in 1940. Cassian is, of course, not really a part of this at all. The Walther PPK/S is also one of the guns Peggy uses in _Captain America_ and _Agent Carter_. 
> 
> ———
> 
> Yup. Hopefully I did these characters justice and you guys had fun reading this? *sighs* PLEASE let me know what you thought! [You can also check out the series’ official playlist here. I'll be updating it as I go along.](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL6q0-u-EGyHV_gc5rxOwwUA5NFzQKEHUQ)


	2. Peggy and Cassian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Chapter - in which Cassian and Peggy discuss Jyn's progress over a cup of tea and something stronger, and Cassian and Jyn meet under an oak tree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A fun, bonus chapter because I love Peggy too much! 
> 
> I also want to dedicate this chapter to those who have read and commented on every story in this series. You know who you are. I would have stopped writing fanfiction a long time ago if it weren't for your support. Thank you so much. You guys are the best! 
> 
> [You can also check out the series’ official playlist here. I'll be updating it as I go along.](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL6q0-u-EGyHV_gc5rxOwwUA5NFzQKEHUQ)

 

 

“Carter, get your feet off my desk.”

Peggy Carter, who is sitting in Cassian’s own chair, quirks an eyebrow in challenge. She is licking her fingers; a pack of his rationed biscuits lie empty on his pristinely-kept desk. Upon hearing his request, she merely taps her foot, her eyes rising to meet his as he enters the room. 

“Don’t be rude, Andor,” Carter remarks glibly. “What happened to my place is your place, etcetera?” 

“This is my office, Carter. Not my house.” 

“Same thing.” 

Cassian shrugs off his rain-soaked jacket and drapes it over a chair. “Well, you’ve certainly made yourself at home.” In addition to the empty pack of biscuits, he notices two cups of tea, still steaming hot. 

“I’ve also found your stash,” says Carter. She reaches underneath his desk and produces his hidden bottle of tequila. “Touché, Captain.” 

Sighing, Cassian takes a seat. “You’re insufferable.” 

“I’m resourceful.”

“You’re a pain.”

“A pain with a very good eye who is about to pour tequila into your tea. You should be grateful.”

Cassian sighs again and waves a hand in defeat. “Go on, then.”

Smirking, Carter pours the liquor into both cups of tea and pushes one across the desk to Cassian. 

“Where is Jyn?” 

“She’s gone for a run,” Cassian replies, his voice a little _too_ nonchalant. He wraps a hand around the cup and takes a careful sip.

Carter looks at him with open amusement. “A run, huh? In the rain?”

“When has the rain ever stopped you British from doing anything?”

“Not a fan of the Scottish weather then, are you, Andor? Missing the Mexican sun?”

Cassian finds himself wincing despite Carter’s teasing tone. “I always miss the Mexican sun.” 

He hopes to God that the sentence did not sound too wistful or too sad. He trusts Carter (he is no fool), but he is never one to dwell on the more… _personal_ side of things. After all, when has sentiment ever gotten them anywhere? 

“Well, you should be glad to know that I approve,” Carter says instead.

“Of what?”

“What else? Jyn Erso, of course!” 

Cassian forces himself to look blankly back at Carter. “You think she’s…up for the task?”

“More than up for it.” Carter drums her fingers on a nearby file. “I wrote my assessment down for you in here. All my notes, my observations, my thoughts.” 

“You don’t think she’s too…” - Cassian frowns over his cup of tea - “…too impulsive?”

“She is certainly impulsive, which can be a good thing and a bad thing. But she is a decent enough shot, a passionate leader, and goodness, those fighting skills of hers! I’d give my right arm to fight as well as she does. But, unfortunately, she is not a spy, Andor. Unlike you, she cannot lie her way to Berlin.”

“I know that.”  Of course, he knows that. Perhaps this is one of the reasons why he likes her so much: her honesty. He is always helpless in the face of it. "Sabotage, then?"

“Sabotage and recruitment,” Carter replies. “Send her to France and she can turn that place upside down in no time. If….well, _when_ she is there, she might benefit from a handler who can balance out her more…reckless tendencies, I think. Someone like you, perhaps.”

Carter is looking too smug for her own good. Cassian drinks more tea so as not to respond right away.

“Should I…” - but he corrects himself just in time - “…should _we_ be worried about her getting caught?”

“She can handle herself.”

“I know that, but - ” 

“Andor, have a little faith.” 

_That_ shuts him up. 

Carter makes it sound so easy. Ridiculously easy. Like she knows how much more difficult it is for him to believe in something he can only feel, but not see. 

“You look dreadful,” remarks Carter. She still has not removed her feet from his desk; she just levels him with too much intelligence in her brown eyes. 

“I haven’t been sleeping well.”

“Bad dreams?” 

Cassian simply shrugs. She is right, of course. But that is entirely none of her business; the dreams that keep him awake at night are not _anyone’s_ business. 

“Cassian,” says Carter, and he immediately registers the use of his first name. Her expression softens as she studies him. “Cassian, tell her.”

His hand nearly shakes, damn it, but he has always been a very good liar. 

“Who?”

He can see how badly Carter is trying not to roll her eyes. “You know who. Erso.” 

“Tell her what?”

This time, Carter really _does_ roll her eyes. “Men,” she says derisively. “You’re all so bloody clueless.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cassian replies instead. He puts his cup down gently on the desk. “I’m an instructor, Carter. Erso’s my student.” 

“Of course she is.” 

“I’m doing my job.”

“Of course you are.”

“I’ve asked you to come here to evaluate her progress.” 

“You did,” says Carter. “Why?” 

“Because I can trust you.” 

“Goodness, that is strange to hear,” Carter remarks idly. 

“And it is even stranger to _say.”_

Carter scoffs and swings her feet off his desk. She really does move with precision, this woman, Cassian thinks. Every action punctuated by clipped efficiency and class. And she always sees too much. Far too much. 

“Forget it, Andor.” Carter sighs. “We are never going to be best friends, are we? We are never going to sit around and braid each other’s hair, trade war stories or talk about our love lives. It is never going to happen.” 

“Thank goodness for that.” 

“Well, I did try. Give me _some_ credit, at least.” 

“I always do.” Cassian finds himself smiling a little. “Those Americans have no idea what they’re getting into with you, Carter.” 

“I haven’t missed you, Andor, but I have missed your thinly-veiled compliments.” 

Cassian’s smile widens. It feels strange indeed to smile so often; today has been a real exception. 

“I’m grateful, you know, Carter. That you came up here.” 

“Frankly, I didn’t have much of a choice. At least now we’re even.” Carter pours more tequila into both their cups before lifting up hers. “A toast, then? To celebrate?”

“A toast to what?”

Carter pauses for a moment. 

“To victory,” she says.

Cassian lifts his own cup to meet hers. “To victory.” 

 

* * *

 

Cassian stands under an oak tree, waiting for her to run past. When she finally jogs up the path and spots him, she immediately slows down to a halt. 

“Hello, Erso,” says Cassian. 

Jyn can only lift a hand in greeting; she is still panting, trying to catch her breath. And he cannot help but notice how good she looks in the rain. 

“Hello,” she eventually says. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting to talk to you.”

“You could have waited for me inside the canteen.”

“Too many eyes and ears.” 

A playful smile tugs at her lips. “We did have a conversation in front of your entire unit of new recruits, you know.”

“Yes, but I suppose that’s the difference between you and me.” He runs a cautious hand through his wet hair. “You are not one for secrets.”

Jyn’s smile turns a little sad at his words. She steps underneath the canopy, leans against the trunk of the oak, and gazes up at him with too many unsaid things swirling in her green eyes. 

“I want to apologise,” says Cassian without thinking. “This afternoon, I didn’t apologise.” 

“For what?”

“For not telling you about Carter coming up from London.”

“Oh. That.” And she looks…surprised? Relieved? “Thank you, I suppose.”

“I should have warned you.” 

“Well, I understand why you didn’t.” 

“Yes, but…I should have warned you.”

Jyn frowns. “Do you really think it’ll help get me to France? Peggy’s assessment, I mean.” 

Cassian shrugs. “We can only hope.” 

“Yes,” Jyn says rather wistfully. “I suppose that's all we can do.” 

She takes a step forward and she is close enough that he sees the droplets of rain clinging to her eyelashes. The way her lips tremble a little with ernest. And he realises, with some sadness, how much he would like to kiss those lips.

The impulse is, of course, very improper. He should not even be here at all. 

“Thank you for worrying about me,” Jyn says quietly. “I never…I never had that before.”

God, what can he possibly say to that, then? He shoves both hands into his pockets. Shifts on the balls of his feet.

_Cassian, tell her,_ Peggy had said. 

But he cannot. He simply cannot. He had already said too much this afternoon. Instead, he says, “I just want you to be safe, Jyn.” 

She scoffs. “It’s a bit too late for that now.”

He sighs. “Jyn, you know what I mean.”

She does not say anything, but her hand reaches out to grip his forearm instead. The gesture is so unexpected that a smile comes to his face before he can stop himself. 

“I’m going to give them hell,” she says. 

Cassian grins. “I know you will.”

They do not kiss (perhaps one day they might) and it is still raining when they walk back to the house together. It always rains here, Cassian thinks. But somehow, this time, he finds that he does not mind it quite so much.

.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to disappear for a while because there is some other writing I need to do. But hopefully, you guys will still be here when I return? :) [You can also check out the series’ official playlist here. I'll be updating it as I go along.](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL6q0-u-EGyHV_gc5rxOwwUA5NFzQKEHUQ)
> 
> Anyway, please let me know whether you enjoyed this little chapter. Many thanks!


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